Oujisama Daisukininaru n Desu
by Gosangoku
Summary: As he discovers a world of sadistic tribes, evil assassins, eccentric magicians and ferocious battle, Prince Alfred realises that he'll have to grow up before he can fight, let alone run a kingdom... — US/UK/US.


_Meeting you was fate,_

_becoming your friend was a choice,_

_but falling in love with you I had no control over._

**x.**

They approached like wild dogs set loose; weapons raised above their heads and eyes glinting ferociously as they charged after their target. Feet collided heavily with the hard ground beneath, hollow thumps echoing throughout the seemingly endless forest, and the man in front of the mob of fierce people found it difficult not to stumble over countless stray roots. He ran haphazardly, running as fast as he could through the overgrown weeds and leaping over ponds and rushing through puddles, staggering over the uneven ground and gritting his teeth as the men behind him screeched their battle cries.

He could hear his own ragged breath, and the sound of blood pumping through his veins speedily as he forced his legs to _keep going_, _keep going_ despite how much it ached and _burnt_. He couldn't see them through the thick trees, but he could hear them; could hear their selfish, hungry cries and metal clashing with metal. _I've got to get away!_ he thought, panicked, eyes darting around as he _ran_, _ran_, _ran_, but all he could see was trees and shrubbery expanding even further. _Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What the hell am I supposed to do? There's only one of me, and... I didn't count how many of them there were, but I know I'm outnumbered._

His thoughts only served to increase his anxiety, particularly when he felt a sudden sharp sting. Stumbling, and only managing to pick himself up at the last second, he sped onwards, and lifted a hand to rub at his cheek, eyes widening when he saw the smudge of red blood on his fingers. "F-fuck," he stuttered helplessly, hand pressed against his cheek as he gritted his teeth and continued running, hoping that whatever had scratched him wasn't filled with poison.

He was uncertain whether or not it was only psychological as he struggled sluggishly through the constricting vines and restricting brances, and tried to convince himself that he was fine, he was okay, he was just nervous. He was fine-

But those foolish thoughts were banished when dark-skinned feet entered his vision, decorated in strips of brown and orange material. Blue eyes widened fearfully when he felt an icy cold blade slip underneath his chin, and obediently lifted his head as the sword rose, looking into dark brown eyes and attempting to disguise his terror. He licked his dry lips and tried not to swallow, the metal uncomfortably close. "H-hey," he squeaked, voice high and shakey due to the fright he felt bubbling up inside of him. A few tribe members behind the one holding him down with a blade exchanged amused glances, and then glared at him. "This... This is all a big misunderstanding," he tried to explain, rubbing his sweaty palms on the crispy leaves beneath. "I didn't mean to trespass or anything, s-so..."

"Be silent," the dark-skinned person snapped, and Alfred blinked in surprise.

Before he could stop himself, he squawked, "Y-you're a girl!"

The imperious-looking _woman_ stared down at him angrily, dark eyes shimmering.

"Miss Ayana," someone said, stepping up behind the scary girl. He glared down at Alfred, mistrust evident in his eyes, and muttered something in a language the solitary pale man could not comprehend. He frowned, apprehensive, when the woman whispered back, and then glowered down at him.

"You," she hissed, raising her blade enough to scratch his chin slightly. Alfred winced painfully, clenching his fingers into the hard dirt to prevent himself from acting brash. "What is your name?" she demanded, raising her sword to aim it between his eyes. Gulping, the boy squirmed under the intensity of her simmering glare.

"I-I'm Alfred," he squawked helplessly, eyeing the sword nervously. _Man, does she know how to handle a blade..._

The woman tilted her head, glare softening, but only slightly. "I have not heard your name around here," she murmured, and eyed him up and down, curling her lip in disgust, and then raised her blade once more. "Nor have I seen the likes of you entering my forest... apart from _him_." Her almost-black eyes narrowed dangerously into revolted slits and pressed the metal against his skin. "Are you affiliated with that despicable man?" she barked furiously, eyes suddenly wide as flames danced wrathfully inside the blackness.

"A-affiliated with who?" the blond replied quickly, trying to back up as much as he could. Sure, he held a blade, but he wasn't that good at it. Back before he had departed from his home, his father had him train in the arts of swordfighting, but the trainers had always gone easy on him due to his high status and riches. It disgusted and annoyed him, thinking back, because he knew he could beat those bastards without them taking it easy on him!

"That sly magician, of course!" the dark-skinned woman snapped, and blue eyes widened again when he realised his mind had somehow wandered off of such a situation.

"M-magician?" he murmured, blinking several times before smirking sardonically and shaking his head slightly, but not enough to impale himself on the woman's sword. "Lady, I don't know what berries you've been eating, but there's no such thing as _magic_," he drawled, attempting to keep the cynical note out of his tone; he didn't want to provoke the intimidating woman even more. Although he didn't have to mask a glare when he met her gaze again, because his vision became blurry and he felt a wave of nausea hit him like a brick wall. He let out a bewildered grunt and leaned back, limp, against the tree behind him.

"Since he said that, I don't think he is working with that annoying mage..." he heard the scary lady say. Her statement was followed by an uproar of shouts in the strange language, and Alfred groaned weakly in protest as he saw a blurry blade enter his vision. "My people are hungry," she said, a smirk decorating her dark lips. "I am afraid that you will have to be our sacrifice tonight..."

Alfred's fingers twitched urgently as she lifted her large sword above her head and stared down at him uncaringly, a cold glint in her eye and he knew she was serious. _Oh, God_, he thought, utterly panicked and terrified and - _Someone! Anyone...! _"Help..." he whispered weakly, trembling in his vein attempt to regain control over his body. He bit back a whimper and clenched his eyes tightly shut as the woman brought the sword down in a swift motion, letting out a sharp bark as she did so. The tribe members cheered behind her, and Alfred knew he was about to die. He didn't notice when their cheers had transformed into squawks and screams. _Oh, God. No. No! I'm not ready to die yet! I'm too young!_ his mind screamed as he tried helplessly to move, but to no avail. He felt his eyes sting as he prepared for the blackness that would surely consume him soon as he ceased to exist...

But... why was it taking so long...?

Cracking open an eye slowly, as if afraid it was a trick and he would see himself with a blade driven through him, he blinked in surprise when he saw he was relatively unharmed. Blinking again, he examined himself, and then slowly, painfully, raised his tired head to stare in awe at the scenario occurring just a few feet before him.

"_You_!" the woman spat, lowering herself closer to the ground in a defensive position and she clutched the leather hilt of her blade protectively. Her poisonous glare, filled with pure hatred and revulsion, was directed at an invisible force before her. At first, Alfred thought he was being addressed, but then, he noticed strange colourful waves in the air in the silhouette of a person. "Show yourself, you bastard!" she screamed, "I can already see you! Your pathetic little tricks do not fool me!"

Much to Alfred's surprise and utter bewilderment, there was an irritated sound, followed by an incomprehensible murmur, and suddenly a young man, slender and rather small in stature, appeared, floating just a foot above the ground. "As always," the blond boy drawled, voice a lot deeper than Alfred had expected, "It's a pleasure, Ayana." With this, he removed the top hat that rested on his head and graced the woman with an exaggerated bow, which only seemed to agitate her further.

"You bastard," she hissed angrily, eyes narrowing as she heaved up her blade and charged for him. "I will destroy you!" she screamed, raising her sword to slash at the hovering man. Alfred might have screamed if it weren't for the drug, although he'd deny it. As it was, he was paralysed, and so he could only watch in horror as the Ayana woman gripped her sword and slashed at the small man.

_Oh, God. He's dead. He's dead. My chance at survival is... is... Where...?_

He didn't seem to be the only one who was befuddled. Glancing listlessly at the tribe members and the woman brandishing a sword, they were all scanning the treetops and near-by bushes. Ayana cursed to herself, hawk eyes speedily analysing the area. She blinked. Paused. And put down her sword, embedding it in the dry soil. "He is nowhere to be seen," she suddenly declared, turning her back on Alfred. "And so I assume it is safe to kill this young human boy-" Her eyes widened, and she swerved around, her movements almost too fast to be detected by Alfred, and she swiped at the air with her hands curled into fists. "Ah!" she yelled as she twirled, as graceful as a dancer, and looked up, pausing, briefly, and Alfred caught a glimpse of the blond man. He was flying above her, eyes half-lidded and bored, as he stared right into her face.

"Boo," he whispered, and vanished again.

Ayana was panting, once again scouring the area with her perceptive eyes. She cursed in a foreign tongue, and then blinked as she felt a sharp breeze fly past. She spared no time and lashed out, punching at the air, just as a few strands of her dark hair flew off. Gasping, she staggered back to her sword, glaring furiously as the same blond man appeared several feet away from her, face blasé as before.

"Ayana," he murmured quietly, "I thought you had told me your people were not savages." He tilted his head and cocked a brow. "You evidently lied to me, you sadistic mongrels." He didn't sound as disgusted as his words let on, sounding more irked to be there than anything else.

The woman and her people eyed the blond, eyes widening as he raised a hand and let long black strands of hair fall from his pale hands. Ayana slipped a hand around her sword's hilt, easily extracting it from the ground, and pebbles and mud rained everywhere. The blond did not falter, maintaining the same nonchalant expression as the woman charged at him again.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing...?" Alfred gasped hoarsely, finding it difficult to speak. He swallowed through his dry throat and licked his lips. "Run...!"

The blond either did not hear him, or simply did not care, for he remained stock still in his leisurely position, one hand raised. The American thought he was suicidal, or at least insane. But suddenly, a bright white light formed inches above his open palm, and it began to glow red, sizzling with electrifying energy, and then he ran. He remained silent as Ayana let out her tribe's battle cry as they dashed towards each other, meeting in the centre of the makeshift battle arena. Alfred caught sight of enraged black eyes, glinting green ones, a scowl, a smirk. Then nothing.

Silence reigned for a few seconds, and he thought perhaps that he had witnessed a play or a dream. But then, suddenly, he felt himself being knocked back, flying away as the tree behind him ruptured, and smoke and white light blinded him momentarily. Disorientated, aching and confused, he thought fearfully, _What the hell just happened?_

Heavy wind, like the sound of a tornado, flew through his ears as the light blinded him. He let out a pained sound as he collided with a rock, and tried to move slightly, grab onto it, as he waited for _whatever just happened_ to pass.

As small stones and dirt collided with his exposed back, he couldn't help but think, _I want to go home._

**O-o-O-o-O**

He almost hadn't noticed the silence as it happened so gradually, disippating over a period of time. He finally felt the force of the wind dying down, and slipped down from the rock to the ground. He gasped for breath, eyes wide and mind in a frenzy, as he dug his nails into the mud below him for comfort. _This is solid. This is good. I'm okay_, he repeated as he tried to breathe normally and slow the erratic pounding of his heart. "Oh my God," he whispered to himself, "Oh my God. Oh my God..."

"You should not use His name in vein," a deep voice advised calmly, and Alfred nodded.

"Yeah, my mother always says..." Stop. Wait. Back up. Rewind. Eyes widening, he looked up at the man perched casually on top of the large rock, staring down at him with lazy eyes. "Y-you're that magic guy!" he screeched, raising his arm to point. His reactions were taking longer than normal, thanks to that weird drug, but he managed it. Just how long had he been clutching at that rock.

A raised eyebrow. _Wow, those... those are big_, the American thought, gawking rudely at the man's fuzzy monsters hovering above his eyes. They were just so... _big_! "'Magic guy'?" the man repeated disinterestedly, looking only slightly disapproving but mostly just very bored. "I am a mage in training," he corrected lazily, cocking his head to the side as he leaned further down the rock. Alfred gaped, wondering how he didn't fall off.

"Wha-? B-but you-! A-and that girl-! And-!"

The man rolled his eyes. "Shut up," he muttered, "You're rambling." Leaning down slightly more so that his face was hardly even an inch away from Alfred's, he blinked slowly, eyes skimming across his face curiously. "She hit you with a dart. A paralysing one, if I am not mistaken."

"Well, thanks a bunch. I guessed that much myself," Alfred snapped carelessly, suddenly not caring about the man's power if he acted like this much of an asshole.

He quirked a brow again, and rose up, standing atop the rock as if he were royalty when, in reality, his hair was a mess, he had dirt covering his pale flesh, and his clothes were practically rags. Alfred made a face at the man's state and his sub par attire, but decided not to speak up in case he'd get a fist to the face. "Well then," the guy drawled, gazing down at the American with a blank stare. "I suppose you don't want my help." He paused, as if waiting for something, but Alfred was either too stupid or too stubborn to realise. "All right, if that's how you want it, then I bid you farewell, Alfred F. Jones." He raised his hands above his head and made a slashing motion. Suddenly, a long wooden stick appeared, the air around it glowing a faint shade of red. The man grabbed it and hopped on it haphazardly, obviously used to... _it_.

The stick rose up into the air, and the man looked as if he were about to make his exit, when Alfred, acting on spontaneous spurts of energy, shouted, "_Wait_!"

Green eyes flickered down to him and a big eyebrow was rose. "Hmm?" he hummed carelessly, leaning back on his stick to appraise the American.

"I-I mean..." Alfred flushed slightly, embarrassed to ask for help, and tried to shift from side to side on his numb legs. "I... I can't move," he said, as if that would explain everything. However, the smaller man just stared at him, still blasé and bored as if he had all the time in the world and yet, at the same time, as if he had somewhere to be.

"What's your point?" the blond muttered, leaning back on the stick languidly.

_Is he part cat? Seriously... _"My _point_," Alfred spat, trying to hide his embarrassment, "Is that I _can't fucking move_, and so I might... need some help."

"What's that?" the smaller man murmured, still sounding bored, but there was a certain air of arrogant certainty about him that just irritated the American. "Speak up, child. I can't hear you."

"You know you fucking heard me!" he snapped back furiously, glaring wrathfully at the English man, who stared back carelessly. "Stop being such a jerk and help me!"

A quirked brow. Again. _This boy is far too self-absorbed_, the Englishman thought irritably, but maintained his composure. "I offered you help," he said, hovering above Alfred, as if taunting him. "And you rejected it."

"W-well, I take it back!" Alfred retorted, glowering childishly. "So help me already!"

He was not expecting the words that came next.

"Why should I?"

No one had ever disobeyed his orders before.

Too shocked to speak for a moment, Alfred just gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water until, suddenly, his temper returned full force. "How dare you? Don't you know who I am?"

A long-suffering sigh. The Brit examined his nails. "Alfred F. Jones, heir to the infamous _King_ Jones's insurmountable fortune and what I am sure is a luxurious castle to boot. Nineteen years of age, blond, blue eyes, male. American. It's a shame about your nationality, but I suppose it futs such a brat." He looked up from his hands to gaze at the gawking boy, and then hummed to himself. "You don't know very much, do you, kid?" he muttered, leaning forward again. "You're the son on a rich as fuck king. You ran away. Don't you think there would be a huge hype about it?" When he received no answer, he rolled his eyes. Alfred scowled at him, but couldn't think of anything to say. "There's a huge reward for whoever finds and returns you to _Daddy_..."

"I'm not going back!" the American shouted hastily, protesting with muffled insults when a hand was slapped over his mouth.

"Do you really want to attract wild animals with your irritating voice, brat?" he hissed angrily, and Alfred was glad he had finally sparked some kind of emotion in the impassive guy. Smirking to himself, he slipped his tongue out from between his lips and licked the man's hand, laughing heartily when the Brit squawked and grabbed his hand back as if burnt. "Y-you fucking idiot!" he squeaked, glaring daggers at him. "You have the manners of a bloody hippopotamus." With that, he huffed and folded his arms, crossing his legs as he floated above the American.

"You act like a princess," Alfred grumbled, only to earn a smack across the head.

"Insulting me won't convince me to assist you, stupid prince!" the Englishman yelled agitatedly, digging his nails into his arms as his anger sparked.

"Then why the hell are you still here?" the prince screamed back petulantly, and then suddenly realised how immature and childish he sounded. "U-uh..."

"Well," the smaller man then muttered, sounding a bit insulted, "If that's how you feel, I shall now, finally, after you have wasted a few precious moments of my life, leave. Have fun in the wilderness, _ouji-sama_." With that, he stood on his stick, defying the laws of gravity, and bowed lowly, before staring down at the idiot with a lacklustre scowl, and then disappeared right before Alfred's eyes.

"Y-yeah, well..." he began uncertainly, glancing around him to make sure no creepy tribe members or murderous, famished animals were near by. Then, he shouted, "I didn't want your help anyway!"

He did not enjoy the sound of his own voice as it echoed ominously through the otherwise empty forest. Swallowing thickly, he glanced around nervously, trying to detect any sign of threat disguised behind expanses of foliage and stray rocks.

"I... I don't need any help at a-all," he murmured again, mostly just to comfort himself. "I'm okay, I'm okay... I'm-" He cut himself off with a strangled gasp as he heard a loud howl, the sound waves surrounding him, and he couldn't decide which way it was coming from. "Oh, God," he whispered, paling significantly. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Th-there's a wolf out here... Oh, God," he gasped, biting his lip and digging his fingers back into the earth below him as he attempt to scramble to his feet, grimacing and moaning ruefully when he found his legs were still practically useless. "Oh, fuck. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm too young to die!"

"Ugh, you're hopeless!"

Blue eyes widened as he was whisked up into the air, and he let out a pained grunt as his lower regions collided painfully with his new seat. Wincing, he opened his eyes to see the same man from before sitting in front of him.

His face was partially flushed and his thick eyebrows were lowered angrily as he snapped, "Hold onto me if you don't want to die, idiot prince!"

Alfred was barely given any time to react before he suddenly felt as if his lungs were being ripped out of his chest.

_Idiot._

**O-o-O-o-O**

_**Axis Powers Hetalia **_**belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

**Yes, another one. x.x; I can't help myself... OTL. ;; I don't blame you if you wish to shoot me.**

**...**

**Actually, wait-! -**_**shot!**_**-**

So, this plot may be kind of confusing. It's not in a different time era (if that were so, they wouldn't be speaking as they are with modern language and such); it's an alternate universe, sort of. It's the same planet, they're on Earth and such, but it's just different in terms of history that's transpired and the environment. Because history is diverse, the world is different, and as such forests and small villages compile most of the Earth in this story. Think semi-Hogwarts style. c:

**Pffft, yes, Alfred's a rich brat and Arthur's a bastard. X'D But don't worry, Alfred will become more mature and Arthur will show his soft side... eventually... ;; But not for a while, 'cause, you know... they're them. -**_**blank stare!**_**- But don't hate on either of them just yet (please?), for they shall both redeem themselves later! And Alfred isn't just a rebellious teenager (...well, he is, but...), he does have his reasons for leaving, and they aren't **_**completely **_**immature... eheh.**

**This reminds me of various MMORPGs I've participated in... Yes, I'm a geek. But whatever. They're fun! -**_**shot!**_**- In any case, yeah, Arthur's a mage in training (for once, he doesn't fail... much. XP Although you'll later see why he isn't quite good enough to be a mage...), and Alfred's a sword fighter who isn't actually very good... yet. ;3**

**Props to anyone who can guess who Ayana is? :3 She's a country (asdfghjkl duh, Gosan...), and is an LEDC, so any guesses? Also, please love me for not using the overused (albeit lovely) name, Amira. XP Her tribe members aren't other countries, but instead just people who share her nationality. c: Himaruya-san has not yet personified this country yet, so... XP Any countries not yet created by Himaruya whom I wish to utilise in my fics shall be made up by me, just like Thuy (Vietnam, although he's created her now... =3=) and Niran (Thailand, and same goes, but I'm still using the names I made for them XD).**

Here's a basic outline for Ayana:  
_**Age**_**: Somewhere in her twenties.  
**_**Appearance**_**: Dark skin, long black hair and dark brown eyes. She's more skinny than slender (as she is a representation of an LEDC =/). She is a shaman for this story, and wears attire accordingly.  
**_**Relatives**_**: Somalia (sister), Sudan (brother), Kenya (brother) and three others who I shall not yet reveal just so I won't give it away. XD  
**_**Likes**_**: Hunting, music, nature, dancing, fruit, pastries, and flowers.  
**_**Personality**_**: Is usually very cordial and formal, but often icily so. She is polite because she knows that she is at a disadvantage financially, but she isn't someone you can walk all over without being bit back. Her siblings often joke that she is like a scorpion. She is insulted easily by the opposite gender due to her customs, and harbours a lot of hostility to most men she knows. Actually, she is quite easily insulted by most, but does not show her anger openly most of the time - only against special people (i.e. Arthur XD). She does not use her honorifics usually so that she can inadvertently insult others without their knowledge. She dislikes alcohol, but is not a lightweight. She can be violent, but she does have decorum and is very hospitable and welcoming to the few she likes. She's a very proud person (hence why she's so easily insulted), as well as exceedingly stubborn. She's a bit of a feminist and doesn't mind getting her hands dirty. She's fairly religious but not to a disturbing extent. She gets sick a lot and doesn't have enough finances to provide health care. (Bleh, it's making me sad writing this because it applies to the country in real life... But she's also independent in real life though, so that's cool. c:) Usually her hair is in plaits. She plays the massinko and the nagarit.  
Hope you like her. XP I tried to keep her similar to the people of the country she represents, and maintain her customs. :3 I usually make male OCs (although she's not an OC if she's a real country! ;D), but there aren't enough girls in Hetalia. Plus I think she'd be a beautiful girl. She reminds me of India, but with more of a rebellious personality. XD Oh, speaking of which, India shall indeed be in this fic because she's awesome~ OuO**

If you want an overview of pairings, I can't really guarantee many or promise any. n; Please do not ask me to do a certain pairing as I do not wish to let anyone down. XD; However, pairings that will definitely be included within this are USxUK (obviously~) and hopefully FrancexCanada. x.x; I say hopefully as I also like France with Seychelles and Canada with Ukraine... but with this plot, I doubt the latter would work out... =n=; Not sure how Canada and Ukraine would even meet due to their entirely different geographical areas in this fic, as well as other factors... meh. We'll see, ne? Other than that, no ideas about other pairings. GreecexJapan is a given for me (pff), but others... no idea~ ;; Sorry! I don't want to do too many pairings. n I tried that in TnO and it hurts my brain. x.o;

**Many thanks to **_**Kita Kitsune **_**and **_**cheritree**_** for helping me with the title~ (Please continue helping me with American terms. x.x; I almost wrote "git" instead of "jerk" when Alfred shouted at Arthur. I'm not America, so blehhh. -**_**sulks!**_**-) You guys are way better at Japanese than I am. x.o; But yeah, guys, I'm using ****'**_**Oujisama Daisukininaru**_**' as suggested by **_**cheritree**_**. There are several ways to say it (because Japan is a complicated person/country n), but I'm quite fond of this one. According to **_**cheritree**_**-nii, it means, 'I fell in love with the prince.'**

**... I... I ramble too much, don't I? N-not that I'm self-conscious or anything, b-but... sorry for babbling and wasting your time with reading this obnoxious bold font! x.x; Just 'cause I like reading Author's Notes doesn't mean others do and so... x.x Sorry! Not that I care if you care, but... but... SHUT UP.**

**If anyone's interested, I drew a USxUKxUS pic for **_**Suzume Chiyu**_**, so here it is if you want to see it: http: / /gosangoku. deviantart. com /# / d2rr3d6  
As you know, just remove the spaces. c:**

Finally, I'm finished rambling, so take care, be safe and stay tuned~


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